And so the key word, is 'comfort'. After such a long and at times so very difficult a journey, that is what we look to as an imperative for our loved one. This time is very demanding on those who are so very close and who have cared for someone throughout such a journey, which by nature of this disease, draws relentlessly upon your emotional reserves and seems hell bent on breaking your heart. And then there is that profound sense of feeling powerless, whilst that constant yearning to preserve the life of someone who has raised you, protected you and loved you and who has, throughout this long and unremitting journey, seemed completely dependent upon you - all of this and much more - comes together now, like a cruel admonishment of all that endeavour. What is termed, 'end of life.' Yet, what is quite natural and truthful and applies to every single one of us, come the day.
But dementia, whilst an unforgiving foe in our eyes, remains, in essence, the domain of the one who actually lives within it throughout that journey. And yet it touches us, as carers, or as a child of a parent, in such a profound way, that this moment, this 'end of life' moment, is so very overwhelming, as to seemingly have no ending.
But the 'beautiful mum' - despite all of this - despite the ravages of dementia - despite the distress, the heartache, the hospitals, the clinical coldness which pervades such moments - the 'beautiful mum' merits the compassion of 'comfort'. At this time, nothing less.
And above all, the 'beautiful mum' remains just that. Nothing can ever change that 'beauty', whether a moment in childhood, or a moment at any other time. That 'beauty' - which only you can know about - never dies
Let that be your 'comfort'.